The Legend of the Burrito Falcon
The weight of darkness still lingered despite the city's defeat of it's greatest foe. The heavy, painted red steel frame of Super Crane fell into ruin when it's food source dwindled. The counter to voracious appetite is always the lack of conservation. Super Crane's damage had been done, but it wasn't the end of Capitol Hill humanity, no, it merely provided a new dawn of hope and hunger.
A small force of intense magical power would yet restore peace to the void left sucked dry of hope and filled with the terror of Super Crane. More bowling pin than man, the littlest wizard drew all the darkness surrounding us as a source of creation. Muttering insane, arcane language, and wobbling just enough to worry those standing upon sure footing, The Wizard brought to life a tale as old as time.
From the remains of Super Crane, with a shriek loud enough to entice any man, woman or weed stoned slacker, rose a beast so glorious, so spectacular that the shine of light from its feathers beamed differently from any angle like rays through a prism, and so gracious that its talons would endlessly clinch with ferocity the shining silver paper wrapping of a feast while never puncturing the delicate tortilla skin within. The littlest wizard had brought to life: the Burrito Falcon, Capitol Hill's Phoenix.
The sunlight reflecting from the wings of this golden beast, the majesty of it's beak, the perfect savory flavor of meets and cheeses, the Burrito Falcon is the only hope this planet needs for survival.